


Coming Out of the Storm

by littleblackbow



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackbow/pseuds/littleblackbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is violated, and goes to Harry for help. Harry unknowingly agrees to become the father to Draco’s child, and things go a lot better than either of them could have possibly imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Out of the Storm

It was a dark and stormy night.

No, really, it was. Harry sat in the study of his home, reading what he considered to be a good book; Quidditch Monthly: Quidditch through the Ages edition. The wind howling and rain pelting the windows made it difficult for him to concentrate, even with the Muffilato charm he’d cast on them.

But there was something else was bothering him. It just felt like an odd night, what with all of his friends being scattered around the world. Hermione and Ron had gone to France after their wedding, and would be away for another week. Neville had taken a sabbatical and was researching magical mosses in Canada. Ginny was working nights at St. Mungo’s now. She likely wouldn’t be back to visit tonight.

Harry turned the page in his book. He’d selected the one that covered the years his father played for the Gryffindor team so he could read about it again. Somehow this made him feel a little less like an orphan - as if at one time he really did have a family of his own.

With the silencing charms in place, he didn’t hear the knock. He did, however, notice Kreacher walking slowly toward the front door, grumbling about how these constant interruptions were such a chore.

Harry set his book down and followed Kreacher out into the foyer. He arrived just as the door opened, revealing a soaking-wet Draco Malfoy wearing a very large dark cloak.

“Can... May I come in?” He asked. His teeth were chattering and he looked as if he had just been pulled out of the harbor.

“Of course,” Harry replied, stunned. “Come in, uh... yeah, Kreacher, thanks.” Harry closed the door. “Let me take that cloak.”

Draco pulled it tightly around him. “No, it’s okay.”

“Well, you can cast a drying charm.” Harry noticed that Malfoy didn’t have a wand in either hand. “Where is your wand?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Gone.” Malfoy sniffed and shuddered.

“Well, I can at least do this.” Harry took his own wand out and cast a drying and then a warming charm on Draco. “What are you doing out on a night like this, Malfoy?”

“Potter, I need your help.” Malfoy didn’t once look up to meet Harry’s gaze. “I don’t know if anyone else can help me.”

“Right. Okay, but first I think we go to the kitchen and have some tea. Tea before impending doom, yes?”

Draco chuckled. “Yeah. Tea would be great.”

Harry led them down the hallway and into the large wood-paneled kitchen. He pulled down his tin of assam leaves and started making tea the Muggle way.

“You don’t use magic in the kitchen?” Draco asked.

“Nah. I find that tea made this way always tastes better. There, why don’t you have a seat?” Harry pointed to the table and wooden chairs in the middle of the room.

Draco shook his head. “No, I think I’d better stand.”

Harry shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He put the kettle on the stove and then turned to face Malfoy, leaning against the counter.

“What happened to you? You’re walking with a limp, and it looks as if your every move hurts.” Harry crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “I might be dense, but I’m observant.”

“I don’t know who they were.” Draco just stood there, looking down at the floor. “They called themselves ‘Orphans of War’ and apparently have it out for any pure-blood former Death Eaters.”

He’d heard about organizations - or rather gangs - like this, but never met anyone who was actually hurt by them. “That’s... that’s terrible. What did they do?”

Malfoy laughed. The laughter gave way to a coughing fit, and then he doubled over, grasping at his stomach. For a moment, Harry thought he might have some sort of bundle under his cloak, but dismissed the thought when the kettle began to whistle.

“Here, just a moment. I’ll get the tea steeping.” He turned toward the stove and picked up the kettle using a towel as an oven mitt. As he poured the hot water into the teapot, Draco came up to him.

“Are you willing to help me, Potter?”

“I already said I would,” Harry replied, putting the kettle back on the stove, and the lid on the teapot. When he turned again, Draco was right there, looking into his eyes. His stare was intense and made Harry’s face flush.

“Will you do anything to help me?” He choked.

“Well, I’m not going to kill or harm anyone for you, but anything else, yeah.” Harry almost didn’t believe the words he was speaking.

Draco took Harry’s hand and drew a runic symbol on his palm. He then placed the hand on his stomach and chanted the words “Dyzplacia Pater” several times. A warm glow came out from Harry’s hand and seemed to disappear directly into Draco’s abdomen.

That was when Harry realized that it wasn’t a bundle under the cloak he’d seen, it was Draco. He wondered when Draco had gotten so fat. Or perhaps this was the problem - that there was some sort of parasite in him that needed to be exorcised.

Finally, as he chanted the last, Draco winced and let Harry go. He turned and ran over to the sink and started vomiting. Harry went to help, turned on the water, and watched as a large pool of black bile flowed out of Draco and down the drain. It was thick and shimmered like crude oil, but also twinkled like magic. Harry put his hand in the middle of Draco’s back and helped pull his hair out of the way. They stayed like that until the vomit started to come out as a light, translucent pink that shimmered with a magic that Harry recognized as his own.

“Come along then,” Harry said after it was all done. “Let’s get you some tea.”

Harry cast a cushioning charm on a chair and helped Draco into it. He brought out two teacups and set them on the table, then poured out tea, adding a generous amount of milk and sugar. “Sorry, I don’t know how you like it. I should have asked.”

“This is fine. Thank you, Potter.”

“Call me Harry, please. It’s been a long time since we were adversaries, and you did save my life.”

“And you saved mine. Not just now, but...” Draco took a sip of the tea. “It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

“Harry, I’ve been impregnated by them, using Muggle reproductive liquids.”

Harry set his teacup down on the table and swallowed hard. He stared for a moment, and then smiled and shook his head. “Oh, sorry, I thought you said-- no never mind, what did you say?”

“Impregnated. I would have told you before, but I thought you might not help me if you knew.”

“You mean that - whatever it is inside of your belly - is a baby?”

Draco took a deep breath and looked up at Harry. “It’s... yes. And now it’s your baby.”

Harry bit his lip and cocked his head to one side. “But that’s not possible.”

“It’s possible, but it’s a terrible thing to do, and there’s only a small chance of survival. Especially if the reproductive fluids used are Muggle. I had to... had to use you. Had to find a compatible magic so that I could transfer paternity from whomever it was they got the stuff from to--”

“To me? You’ve just had me father your child?” Harry wasn’t entirely sure he was having this conversation. His head was spinning, and none of it sounded real. Actually, if it wasn’t for the fact that he saw all of that black magic pouring out of Draco, and the pink stuff in its place, he would have thought Draco was playing some sort of trick on him. “That doesn’t make any sense, Malfoy. Are you sure you weren’t hit in the head or something? Here, let’s get you out of that cloak and--”

“Don’t, Potter.” He pulled away from Harry. “Please, don’t.”

Harry stood back. He was never sure how to win against Malfoy and now he was confused as well. “Okay. Look, it’s late. Why don’t you go upstairs, take a bath and spend the night here? I’ll set out some of my clothes for you so you have something clean, and then we can figure things out in the morning.”

He looked skeptical at first, but eventually Draco nodded. “It’s just as well,” he mumbled as Harry led him up the stairs. “Malfoy Manor won’t let me in now.”

Harry knew not to ask about it that night. It might have just been Malfoy’s bad experience talking, it might have been depression setting in. Either way, Harry didn’t want to wrap his head around another confusing problem. “You can sleep in Regulus’s room. I’m in Sirius’s, so it’s right next door if you need anything. The bathroom is at the end of the hall.” They stopped at the linen cupboard on the way down the hall and Harry gave Draco a large, soft towel.

“It’s very nice.”

“Yes, well, Grimmauld Place was stocked with these horrible, scratchy towels when I first came here. So, when I moved in after the war, I changed a lot of things.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wanted things to be comfortable. The beds all had their mattresses and linens changed, I got new towels and curtains that would actually let in the light.”

Draco looked up when they got to the bathroom. “I can do this by myself, Potter.”

Harry scratched the back of his head. “Right. Okay. I’ll just put the clothes right out here. Um, good night, Malfoy.”

“Good night, Potter.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry didn’t sleep well. Not only was he worried about Draco’s welfare, and his mental state in general. (Really, pregnant?) But he was more concerned about the one comment he made about not being able to go back to Malfoy manor. What was all of that about?

Most of all, Harry was thinking about The Orphans of War. There was something about that group that never quite rang true. They had originally formed immediately after the war as a charitable organization to help the families of those who had fallen. Then that changed to helping the families of the Purebloods who had fallen, since there were plenty of organizations (The Ministry of Magic included) that were helping the other orphans, widows, and widowers. But now it seemed they had become something else entirely.

Sometime around six in the morning, after being up for two hours, Harry went down to his desk and started writing letters. The first one was to Kingsley Shacklebolt, asking for information about the Orphans of War. Then, he wrote a letter to Ginny, asking her to come over as soon as she could.

Malfoy might hex him for calling her in to help, but she was the only fully-trained healer he knew and would trust with this secret.

It didn’t take long for her to arrive, carrying her bag of potions and medi-wands. “I came as soon as I could, Harry. What’s the matter?”

“It isn’t me. I’m fine. It’s--”

Draco came down the stairs wearing Harry’s old sweatsuit and a pair of slippers that looked to be at least two sizes too large for him. When he saw Harry and Ginny talking in the study, he stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, hullo Malfoy,” Harry offered a sheepish smile.

Ginny signed and then smiled, as well. “Hello, Malfoy. It’s... nice to see you again.”

Draco took a step back. “What’s going on here?” He wrapped his arms around his abdomen and stared directly at Harry. “Why did you call... her?”

“How about breakfast?” Harry offered. He went into the hallway and stood right next to Malfoy. “We can have some tea and talk about things.”

Ginny followed him. “Harry’s tea is good, even though his cooking is rubbish. I would stick to the porridge if I were you.” She shrugged and followed Harry into the kitchen.

Not knowing what else to do, Draco followed them, shuffling along in his huge slippers.

“I told you, it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss in the letter.” Harry was at the stove, pouring hot water into the teapot. Ginny stood next to him, leaning against the counter. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you, anyway. Especially since Draco is right here.”

“Yeah, right here, and can hear you two talking about me.” Draco sat at the table on the same chair he’d used the night before. There was a residual cushioning charm on it, but it still hurt when Draco sat.

Ginny watched with interest as he gingerly lowered himself into the chair, wincing when he was finally seated. “You’ve been beaten.” She pulled her wand out of the inside pocket of her cloak and went over to Draco. “May I?”

Draco looked offended at first, but then his shoulders slumped and he shrugged. “I suppose, if you must.”

“Well, as a healer I could force you to accept treatment, but I don’t work like that.” She cast a diagnostic spell, sending ribbons of a pale yellow out from her wand, through Draco, and back to her, winding around her arm and up into her head.

For a moment, she just stood there processing the information, looking as if she was reading something on the far wall. “I see,” she said finally. She went around to Draco’s back and started casting healing spells on the tender and bruised areas. “Have you seen a healer yet?”

“No. As soon as I escaped from them, I came here.”

“And do you know yet if it’s compatible?” Ginny checked her work, gently touching the places on Draco’s back where there had been welts and bruises.

“It is now,” he said softly.

“Good. That will make things--” Ginny stopped and moved around to face Draco. “What do you mean, now?”

“It wasn’t compatible before. Actually, before it was...”

“What color was the bile?”

“Oily black,” Harry handed her a cup of tea and placed another one in front of Draco on the table. “Then it turned into sort of a daisy pink.”

Ginny looked a little confused. “You mean it changed?”

Draco took a sip of his tea. “I transferred paternity. It was the only way to save... us.”

“He transferred it to me somehow. Or at least that’s what he said. I’m not sure if I understand how any of this works, but it seems genuine enough.” Harry took a seat at the table next to Draco. “Sorry, this is all just a little too unbelievable to me.”

“Well, it would be.” Ginny sat opposite the two of them and sipped her tea. “It doesn’t happen very often, and when it does... well, male pregnancy is taboo. It isn’t well accepted here, and for good reasons.”

“That seems a little narrow-minded,” Harry grumbled.

“It’s because the father rarely survives. And the baby’s chances are almost as slim,” Draco offered. “That’s the reason most places have laws against male pregnancy.”

“Laws?”

“Laws so strict that... well, that I won’t be allowed back into the manor - possibly even after I’m no longer pregnant.” Draco planted his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. “This is worse than a nightmare.”

Ginny put her hand on his arm. “We’ll see it through. Do you mind if I am your healer through this process? I know I don’t have much experience in the area, but then I don’t think any of the other healers would, either. And I can be utterly discreet and keep your secret for as long as necessary.”

Draco nodded. “At this point, I don’t know if it matters.”

An owl came into the kitchen and dropped a letter on the table in front of Harry, then promptly flew away before Harry could even offer it a treat.

“What’s that?” Ginny asked.

“It’s from Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Harry replied, scanning the envelope. He stood and headed toward the hallway. “You two keep talking, I’ll be back as soon as I read this.”

Draco watched Harry leave and then turned back to the Weasley girl. “I didn’t want this,” he told her, picking up his cup of tea, “but he was the only one who--”

“I know. I won’t report you. And I don’t think Harry even knows what it means to successfully transfer paternity. You’re sure the bile ran pink?” She fiddled with the rim of her cup and stared down into the brown liquid.

“It was pink and sparkled with magic, Healer Weasley. It wasn’t just a successful transfer, but a complete acceptance.”

Ginny put down her tea cup and looked up, staring at Draco. “You are a very lucky man, Mr. Malfoy. I think you ought to explain to him what this means and how it works. He’s pretty smart at figuring things out when he’s interested, and I think it would be better to come from you.”

“I suppose. Still, it isn’t easy. I will need his help, and if he found out that not only did this baby choose him, but it’s because I--”

“Good news!” Harry called from the hallway. “That group - The Orphans of War? It’s some sort of Neo-Death Eater organization that the Ministry has been trying to lock down for a while. It says here that if you’re willing to write a statement to the effect of what’s happened to you - I didn’t give him any details, myself - he can use that as a tool to--”

“He can’t Harry.” Ginny went over to him and handed him his tea. “Nobody can know about the pregnancy - least of all the Ministry. There are very strict laws against it.”

“Why not? I don’t understand. If there are laws against it, that’s fine, but it wasn’t his fault.” Harry went to sit next to Draco and Ginny took her seat across from them again.

“They’ll forcibly remove the fetus, Harry,” Draco said softly. “According to the law, there MUST NOT be a child born to a man. It goes against some of the foundational wizarding rules against tampering with the natural process of life. The same reason the killing curse is an unforgivable.”

“But that’s not fair. They can’t take our baby!” Harry insisted.

Ginny and Draco stared at each other at Harry’s outburst and his possessiveness. “You need to explain to him, Mr. Malfoy,” she said sternly. “It’s already starting.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry’s mind was reeling from all of this new information. Not only had the paternity transferred to him, but he could expect to become more fatherly to the child as time went on. There was a special kind of family bond in these situations.

Apparently, when paternity was transferred, the baby could either accept or reject the new prospective father. When it accepted the father, a bond would form between the child and the new father. It would begin as a general anticipation and protective instinct, and then eventually turn into a full-family bond.

Draco hadn’t told him much about what would have happened if the baby had rejected Harry.

As Harry sat there in the living room, he wondered how this would work out. It was odd that he and Draco were getting along so well. In fact, his mind never thought of the man as “Malfoy” anymore.

And the man was attractive. Extremely attractive. Not just in his physical features, but the way he carried himself, the way he could be so utterly relaxed in this house, even in the little things like how he ate his dinner, tied his shoes and...

“You’re staring at me, Harry. Stop it.”

...and said things like that.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.” Harry picked up the Quidditch Monthly magazine that was on the end table and opened it up. He’d read it dozens of times and there really wasn’t anything in there he wanted to read in the first place.

But it was something to do, and it might take his mind off of the matters at hand.

He pushed his glasses up on his face and started re-reading an article about the new advances in bludgers - that wasn’t really new at all, and wasn’t interesting three months ago, either.

 

“I’m bored. Do you want to play a game?” Draco offered. He had been lounging on the sofa, looking through an old book that Ginny had given him. He was supposed to read it to prepare himself for this pregnancy and childbirth, but so far had only skimmed it and looked through the pictures.

“What kind of game?” Harry asked, setting the magazine aside.

“Not Gobstones.”

“That’s a children’s game, Draco, I haven’t played that in years.”

“Or Exploding Snap.”

Harry smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Again, years, Draco.”

“Right. I just never know with you and your friends.” Draco rolled his head until his neck popped. “Okay, how about Whist?”

“What?”

“Whist. It’s a simple enough game that even you can learn it if you--”

“I know how to play Whist, I was just... well, it’s a Muggle game, isn’t it?” Harry leaned forward with a confused expression.

“You look funny when you make that face. Don’t do it again.” Draco sniffed. “It’s Muggle now but it was originally a Wizarding game. The way Muggles play, they need four people. Wizarding Whist is a two-player game. You do have a deck of cards, don’t you?”

Harry nodded. “Of course. Let’s play in the kitchen. I’ll get the cards.”

“I want some of those lemon biscuits, too. The ones with the chocolate drizzled on them.” Draco pushed himself up and headed into the hallway. He felt heavier these days, even though he wouldn’t actually start showing that he was pregnant until later.

Ginny had estimated that he was the equivalent of five months into the pregnancy when she had done her last scan. It was a difficult thing to predict, the due date of a male-pregnancy. Due to the man’s elevated metabolism and body heat, and the fact that he wouldn’t be producing hormones in the same way a woman would, the gestation period was considerably shorter than a normal female pregnancy. Higher serum iron and magic levels also assisted in the process. So, instead of nine months, she guessed that a male pregnancy would last six or seven months.

Draco set two plates down on the kitchen table and brought over the tea pot. “So, it will be ready to be removed--”

“Born,” Harry corrected.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Fine, born in early October. Which is a good thing because although I won’t be seeing my family again--”

“Your other family,” Harry corrected.

“My other family again, it will be nice not to be carrying around all this dead weight--”

“Please don’t call him “dead” weight.”

“All this weight through Halloween and Christm--” Draco stopped just as he was going to sit in his chair again. “Him?”

Harry started shuffling the cards. “Yes. I thought you knew. I’m not sure how I know, myself. Just thought it was a Wizarding thing. But I’m sure that’s a boy.”

“It’s... a boy?” Draco took the cards and stared down at them, idly shifting them in his hands. Then, without another word, he began dealing out the hands.

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with that? Did you want a girl?” Harry felt a little awkward and uncomfortable.

“No, it’s good,” Draco said softly. “I’ve always wanted a son.” As soon as he’d finished dealing, he looked up at Harry. His eyes were a little watery, and it looked as if he was refusing to blink to try to prevent the tears. 

“I’ll go... get the biscuits and tea.” Harry stood, but for some reason, on impulse, he didn’t go over to the cupboard, but went to Draco and wrapped his arms around his neck. After a moment, Draco cautiously returned the hug and buried his face in Harry’s shoulder. Harry could feel the moisture seep through his shirt and petted back Draco’s hair. “I’m very happy, too,” he whispered.

Draco sniffed and pulled back. He brought his arm up to cover his eyes and wipe away the tears. “That was stupid.”

Harry smoothed Draco’s hair back one more time and took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“Stupid of me to cry like that. Just forget it happened.” He shook his head and picked up his cards.

Harry leaned forward and very nearly kissed Draco’s temple.

“Don’t!” Draco warned, pulling away. “Please, don’t,” he said more calmly.

There was nothing Harry could say to that. He went over to get the biscuits and tea, brought them to the table, and sat at his place. “Okay. I won’t.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Has he moved yet?” Harry practically tumbled out of the floo onto the living room floor. He had been out working with Bill, working to un-curse some old artifacts at Gringotts.

And Draco hadn’t expected him back until nearly suppertime. “What are you talking about?”

“Moving! The baby! Has he moved yet?” Harry went right up to Draco, wiped the soot off his face with the sleeve of his sooty robe (only managing to scrub it around in a circle shape), and put his hand on Draco’s abdomen.

“Don’t do that!” Draco shouted, trying to pull away. He was at a bit of a disadvantage, however, since he was sitting in the wing-back chair, and Harry was directly in front of him. Harry tumbled forward onto his knees, smiling.

“Good, I didn’t miss it. He’s going to start moving around today!”

For some reason, Draco found Harry absolutely adorable at times like this. The poor man could hardly contain his enthusiasm and was practically shaking with joy. In fact, Draco thought, he was probably the only other person in the world who was looking forward to actually having this little person around. “You can’t know that, Harry, it’s only been five--”

As if on cue, the baby moved. It felt as if he was rubbing up against Harry’s hand - possibly in reaction to his magic.

Harry giggled and leaned forward, pressing his cheek to Draco’s slightly-rounded belly. “That’s... never happened before,” Draco said softly. He put his hand down next to Harry’s face so that he could feel the movement, too. Of course he could feel it from inside of him (and it actually felt something like a parasite or growth that was squirming), but when the baby moved again and settled right into his hand, he suddenly felt a sense of pride.

Harry turned his head and kissed Draco’s rounded belly, then kissed Draco’s hand. “I had a feeling it would happen today.”

“Yeah, you get those. Like when we could hear his heartbeat and when I needed a pillow. What’s next? Are you going to be able to tell me when it’s time to have him removed?” Draco sounded a little upset.

“I... I don’t know. I just feel things sometimes.” Harry sat back on his heels. “I don’t know what it is, actually.”

Draco shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I guess.” He paused for a moment, settling down a bit. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I was kissing the baby.” Harry smiled and scratched his head.

“No, after that. You kissed my hand.”

“Because I wanted to.” Harry stood, brought out his wand, and cast a cleansing charm on himself to remove the last of the soot. “What do you want for dinner?” 

“It’s half-two, Harry and that’s not a good enough answer.” Draco ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“It is for me. Sometimes I do things like that just because I want to. It’s a nice thing, right? I’m not hurting anyone. Just trying to make you feel better.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and just stood there with a goofy smile on his face. “I can’t wait until he’s born.” Harry plopped down on the ottoman and scooted until he was in front of Draco again. “We need to pick out a name!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “We don’t need to do it right now. At half past two on a Thursday.”

Over the past couple of months, he and Harry had done a lot of planning. It went without saying that the baby would have to be born there, at number twelve Grimmauld Place. And that his parents would not be informed of it at all. Possibly even after the birth. Harry said that his friends and family didn’t need to know until afterward, either. That they could keep everything a secret outside the two of them and Ginny.

During all of their planning, however, Harry would always bring up the subject of a name for the child. At first he would just rattle off names of people he knew - James, Sirius, Remus, Teddy (but that was already taken), Albus, and Severus. Draco stopped him at that. If he started naming off friends and family who were still living...

“I’ve come up with a new name,” Harry offered.

“Nobody you’ve known before?” Draco asked, skeptical.

“Nope. Just heard it and I thought it would be perfect for us!”

Draco sighed. “Alright, what is it?”

“Drarry!”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“I want seed cakes,” Draco announced at the breakfast table. He shoved his eggs and toast aside with a disgusted look. 

“I thought you loved eggs.” Harry shoved a mouthful of porridge into his mouth.

“I did. But I don’t now. And no more coffee. Can you please dump that out? It’s making me sick.”

“You love coffee. I even bought a month’s worth of decaf for you so that you could--”

“Hate it. It’s vile. Makes me feel like I’m going to vomit.”

“Right, I’ll get rid of the coffee. Is tea still okay?”

“Tea is fine. Tea is lovely. As long as it isn’t too sweet. I think that would be...”

“How about if we make a list of things you don’t like.”

“Meat.”

“What?”

“No meat. Meat is going to be--”

“No meat? At all?”

“Let me think... beef, pork, chicken, fish... no. None of them. Perhaps lamb... no, no lamb.”  
Also no artichokes, no cream sauces, no prawns, no cooked spinach.”

Harry summoned a quill and parchment. “Let’s make a list of the things you can eat and we’ll make menus from that.”

“Sounds like a much better idea.” Draco shoved his plate away from him. Harry levitated it over to the sink and out of his sight. “Let’s start with ice cream. Also cakes, apples, bananas. No oranges.” 

Harry started writing all of these things down.

“Tea, rice, chicken...”

“I thought you said no meat.”

“Well, I just decided that chicken would be alright as long as it didn’t have any bones in it, and if it was chopped up into little pieces so I couldn’t see any fat or gristle.”

“Right, chopped up chicken.”

“Carrots are OUT. Celery, asparagus are okay. No onions. Oh, for the love of all that’s magical, please no onions.”

“Onions? That’s... oh, alright.”

“Oh, Olives. Make sure we have lots of olives. And did I say ice cream?”

“That’s first on the list.”

“Right, put it down again. Ice cream. Porridge is okay, and toast. But no marmalade. Only strawberry jam or golden syrup.”

“Draco, this isn’t much of a list.”

“Well, I’m sure we can make something from it. Did I say carrots? I think boiled carrots would be okay.”

“You said that carrots were out.”

“Oh, well, that’s changed. Now carrots are in. And custard. I could go for some custard right now. Or a gelato. Do you know how to make a gelato?”

Harry shook his head.

“Well, perhaps you’d better learn. I think I need one.”

“Before you decide you can’t have them?”

“Precisely.”

Harry sighed. It was going to be a LONG two months.

That August was very hot and muggy. Draco desperately missed his wand, but every time he thought of bringing it up, he remembered that he couldn’t actually go out and choose a new wand. Not in this condition.

And after all his family had done to poor Mr. Ollivander, there was no way he could ask him for a new one.

So, he often sat in the kitchen all day. It was the coolest room in the house, and he wouldn’t have to go far to get food or drink. Besides, the downstairs bathroom was the next room down the hall. 

Unfortunately, it was also the room with the most uncomfortable chairs.

And Kreacher.

“Why are you always so unpleasant, Kreacher?” Draco asked, stirring his tea. “I can tell that you like Harry.”

“Mister Draco is not the master of this house. Kreacher is not required to answer any questions.” He went about attempting to polish a cast-iron skillet.

“Hmph.” Draco leaned back in the chair, unable to get comfortable in any other position. He set the teacup on his stomach and poked at the baby. “Almost time for you to get out of there, brat.” Over the past month, he’d somehow made a habit of talking to the baby, even though he wasn’t entirely sure the fetus could understand him.

It certainly understood his magic, though. Whenever he would touch his abdomen, he could feel the baby move toward his hand. “Not much longer, kid. Enjoy it while you can,” he said sadly. “You’ll only be feeling my magic for a little while longer.”

He sighed and took another sip of his tea. Just as he was setting his cup down, he heard someone tumble out of the floo in the other room. It was too early for Harry to be home, and Healer Weasley said she wouldn’t be back until Thursday. Panic set in. He could not Be discovered by anyone else.

“Kreacher!” he whispered. “Who was that?”

“Master Harry Potter and Mister Malfoy are the only ones in this house besides Kreacher.”

“Harry? Oh, buggerall!” He collected his things and shoved them aside into one of the drawers. He didn’t want Harry to know that he’d been skulking in the kitchen all day. “Hullo Harry!” He called out. “Was just having tea, would you care to--” Harry stepped into the room looking as if someone had just died. He was still dressed in his robes from work, but in his hand was a very official-looking parchment. “What’s got into you? Is everything alright?”

Harry shook his head. He went over and poured himself a cup of tea, then sat down at the table and unrolled the scroll. “This is from Shacklebolt, Draco. They found out who did this to you - who... beat and tortured you and...”

Draco swallowed hard and looked away. “Oh.”

“Did you know?” Harry’s voice was shaky and cracking.

“I... suspected.” Draco sighed. “No, I think I knew. My mind blanked out so much of it, half the time I was hallucinating under some sort of spell, and I thought that the voice was just part of the hallucination.” 

“He was your best friend.” Harry shoved the parchment forward.

“I don’t need to look at that.” Draco toyed with the edge of his saucer.

“Draco, I think you do. The aurors went to go take him into custody, but when they got there--”

“He was already dead?” Draco’s eyes started to water.

Harry nodded. “His mother was there, holding him.”

Draco stared down into his tea. “So Maribeth did it. Good. She knew he was insane. To be honest, Greg was never quite there. That’s one of the reasons I kept him with me all the time during school. Vincent was stupid and a sheep. He needed someone to follow. Greg was... he was just off.”

“I didn’t know.” Harry sounded genuinely upset.

“Nobody knew but his family and my family. We made a kind of pact because our fathers were—"

“Comrades.”

“Friends. Yeah, I never thought about that. When Vincent died, Greg said he blamed me. But then, now that I think about it, I think he always blamed himself. When he was giving those orders - to contaminate me and then flog me to punish the traitor, I think he was crying.” Draco’s hands were shaking and he could feel his temperature rising. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and had started running down the side of his face.

Harry got up out of his chair and went over to Draco. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, he wiped away the sweat, cradled Draco’s face in his hands, and gently ran his thumbs along his cheeks. “I wish there was something I could do,” he whispered.

“It’s alright. Greg wouldn’t have lasted one week in Azkaban. It’s better that Maribeth did it. She... she always knew.” Draco closed his eyes and let the tears fall into Harry’s hands.

It was more than Harry could stand to see. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Draco’s. Just for a moment, he thought. But then Draco seemed to respond to his kiss and soon, it was a true, soft, tender kiss of real affection and comfort.

And Harry was loving it. 

Too much, in fact. He had to pull away and offer an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“No, you’re -- you’re fine. That was... very nice and I probably needed it. How do you do that, Harry?” Draco asked in a much softer tone. “How do you always know exactly what I need?”

Harry shrugged. “I just know you, I guess.”

“I guess you do.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Draco! I have a surprise for you!” Harry had spent most of the afternoon upstairs working on some sort of project, and had requested that Draco stay downstairs.

Which, actually, was fine with him. He was getting damn tired traipsing up and down the stairs with an added ten kilo strapped to his midsection. “That’s great, Harry. Bring it down whenever you’re ready!” Draco rolled his eyes and went back to his game of solitaire. Even in an amazing house like that one, he found it easy to get bored.

Harry came bounding down the stairs. “Can’t. You’ll have to come up here.”

“Well, technically you’re downstairs now, so I would have to go over there, but considering the fact that you were never the smartest man I’ll cut you a little slack today.” He flipped another card over, pretending to be disinterested. Truth be told, if there was one thing Draco loved, it was a present. But the one thing Draco loved more than presents was teasing and infuriating Harry Potter.

Harry ran up to him and took him by the hand. “Up. Now. I’ll even carry you if you don’t think you can make it on your own.”

“You will not!”

“Just try me.”

Draco scowled for a moment, then slammed the rest of the deck down on the table. “Fine. But it had better be worth it!”

He managed to get himself up, and with only a little help from Harry, made it up the stairs to the first floor. “It’s in my bedroom?”

“No, that’s the same, it’s in the one next to it.” Harry ran ahead and stood by the door. When Draco got there, he opened it.

 

Inside, Harry had moved the large four-poster bed to one side of the room, tucked the wardrobe in the corner, removed all the clutter, and on the other side, set up a little nursery. “I don’t know much about raising babies, but I reckoned they might need a place to sleep and some toys and things.”

Draco went over to the cradle and ran his hand along it. There was a snitch carved on the top, painted a bright gold color. The sheets were green and gold with white stars spattered across them in patterns of the constellations. 

“See? That way we can show him where to find Sirius, and Andromeda.” Harry smoothed out the blanket and pointed to the large constellation in the center. “And Draco.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Draco reached down and squeezed Harry’s hand. “How could you afford all of this? And how did you get it without everyone knowing about--”

“About you? About me? Oh, well, Ginny bought it for me. I gave her the money, and--”

“But you’ve only been working half-days three times a week. You can’t possibly have afforded all of this on your salary.”

“Well, no, I did dip into my savings for it. But it really didn’t make a difference. I still have plenty of money. And then there’s the money Sirius left me. And the money my parents left me...”

Draco pulled back and stared at Harry. “Wait just a moment. Exactly how much money are you talking about, Harry?”

“Hmmm, I think about sixty or seventy--”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. “Harry, sixty thousand isn’t going to--”

“Million.” Harry corrected. “Sixty million. Of course, I’m not including interest. I’m not really sure how that works.”

Draco’s expression dropped. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Well, like I said, I don’t need much. So, I didn’t really use much of what my parents left me, or what Sirius left me, and since it’s been accruing interest all this time... Plus there was reward money for killing Voldemort - which I wasn’t going to accept, but they put it into my account anyway and somehow the Lestranges money was split between myself and Neville for compensation or something like that...”

If he could have somehow captured that look on Draco’s face, Harry would certainly have done so. Instead, he looked back at the small nursery he’d set up. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled. “You like it, though?”

Draco snapped himself back to the reality of the moment. “Like it? Of course I like it! It’s perfect for me. For the son of Draco Malfoy.” He went over to the bed and sat down on the soft quilt. “And this is for me, as well?”

“Yes, well, I was thinking that since you won’t be able to go out into the Wizarding world for a while, you could stay here and take care of the baby.” Harry went over to the bed, as well and leaned against one of the posts. “There’s one more thing. Inside that drawer.” Harry nodded to the bedside table.

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, and then leaned over and opened the drawer. Inside was a long, narrow box tied up with one dark blue ribbon. He brought out the box and opened it to reveal a new wand. Even before touching it, he could tell it was perfect for him. The wood was practically singing to him as he ran his hand over the top.

“Mr. Ollivander remembers every wand he has ever sold. Including the one he sold to you. So, when I told him that your wand was missing, and you were in trouble and desperate need of a new one, he just went right over to a shelf, brought out this box and handed it to me.” Harry smiled. “It nearly exploded when I picked it up. Doesn’t like me at all, but it seems to be just right for you.”

Draco’s heart sank. “It should work well... for my son.” Without even touching the wand, he put the lid back on the box and set it on the table.

“He won’t be ready to use a wand for years. That one is for you.” Harry sat on the bed.

“There’s something I haven’t told you, Harry. Well, two things, actually, but one of them is pretty important.” Actually, both were pretty important to Draco, but he wasn’t sure he could admit that to Harry just yet. “The reason that male pregnancies are so taboo, the reason it’s absolutely forbidden for any pure-blood wizard to have a child is that it robs him of his magic. The only way the child can be born alive is by using the magic of the father.”

“That... it’s not possible.” Harry leaned forward and stared at Draco for a moment.

“It’s more than possible, Harry, it’s how that magic works. It is, in fact, the main reason this is so dangerous. If the parents are compatible, and the baby accepts both fathers, the birthing father will likely survive the process of the removal, but he will likely go insane from losing all of his magic at once. The child... takes it with him. That’s why it’s such a bad thing. It’s one thing to have magic slowly fade away, but losing it all at once by having it ripped out of you is like losing a portion of your mind.”

Harry put his hand on Draco’s thigh. “I don’t want that to happen.”

“There’s nothing to be done about it. Because it’s a magically-conceived pregnancy and not a naturally-conceived one the baby can’t be removed prematurely.”

They sat there in the room for a long time, just looking over at the nursery area. Harry took Draco’s hand in his own and laced their fingers together, then scooted over so they were sitting close to each other. Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“When did you become such a good friend, Harry?”

“I don’t know, Draco. Probably when I fathered your child?”

“That’s stupid.”

Harry shrugged with his one free shoulder. “Maybe.”

“I think you’ve always been a good friend - even when you were my rival. I think,” Draco brought his other hand over and held Harry’s hand between the two of his, “you’re very good at always trying to do the right thing. That makes you a very valuable person.”

“Or a fool.”

Draco nodded. “Or both.”

“A valuable fool, then.”

“Harry, sometimes you’re really stupid.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Look, Harry, I’m not telling you ‘no’, I’m just saying that I simply don’t have enough experience to tell you that what you’re suggesting is possible.” Ginny set her cup down on the table and clasped her hands together.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I can’t just let it happen, though.”

Ginny sighed. “Look, you’re asking about changing the rules for a male pregnancy. First problem is that there hasn’t been a successful male delivery in over sixty years. Then add into it the fact that this whole situation is illegal. So, I certainly don’t know much about it and I can’t go and seek someone who does.” She pulled her hair up and twisted it into a knot on top of her head, then stuck her tea spoon in it to keep it up there. “And now you ask if there’s a way of preventing the baby from taking his magic? Harry, I just don’t know.”

Draco was upstairs, sleeping, when Ginny arrived. They were scheduled for a routine exam to make sure everything was alright. It was only a matter of weeks before the date when Ginny would perform the spell to remove the baby, or as Harry liked to say “deliver” the baby.  
“Why does he need Draco’s magic? Why can’t he just be born and grow his own?” Harry still wasn’t sure about how any of this worked. He had been resigned to just accepting everything as it came. But still, there were a few things that he just didn’t understand and taking Draco’s magic away from him was one of those things.

“It’s because there isn’t a mother and this isn’t a natural childbirth, Harry. You need to stop thinking of it as that. There’s a reason Draco and I have been using different terms for this. The baby will be removed from him. It isn’t in a womb. There is no umbilical cord to transfer nutrients and magic into the child. It’s growing in what is essentially a magical bubble, and as of yet, there is no magic that’s going into the baby, itself. When I remove it, I’ll basically be pulling out the magical bubble and baby at the same time. And as I do that, because it had been starved of magic all a long, the baby will latch on to the father’s magic and take that with him.”

“But that’s...”

“The way it’s done, Harry.”

The room fell silent for a few moments as Harry thought about what he’d just heard. Something deep inside him was suggesting that there was some other way. Before he could put a finger on what it was that was bothering him, he heard footsteps upstairs.

“I’d better go,” Ginny said, pushing back from the table. “Listen, if you think of something, I’d be more than happy to help. But you can’t go to someone else with this problem. Not even my brother or Hermione. I’m serious when I say that it’s a very touchy subject and even the best people don’t always take it well.”

She stopped by and tousled Harry’s hair on her way out of the kitchen. Harry grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Thanks, Ginny. You’ve been great throughout this whole ordeal.”

“You’re my best friend, Harry.” She sighed. “And I know how you feel about him. You... you probably should tell him, you know?”

Harry stood and levitated their dishes to the sink. “I can’t. Not right now. He’s going through too much for me to just tell him like that. It could, I don’t know, get him all depressed or something. And the last thing I want is for him to get all emotional and irrational and have it harm the baby.”

Ginny forced a smile. “Well, just do what you think is best. I just think that sometimes you need to be a little more open and think of yourself a little more.” She turned to head down the hallway and almost ran into Draco, who was standing only a few feet away.

“I heard your voice and decided to come down here.” As he stared at Harry, his face was pale, and he looked very sad. Nobody said a word for a very long, stale moment. Finally, Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve decided that I like the name ‘Martin.’” He announced.

“Martin is a great name,” Harry said softly. “I like it.”

Draco nodded. “Good.” His whole body was full of tension and Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to shout, or throw something, or cry, but he certainly was all wound up.

“How much did you hear--”

“Let’s go into the study, Healer Weasley. The sofa in there is quite comfortable.” Draco ignored Harry and turned and headed down the hallway.

Ginny gave Harry an apologetic smile. “Tell him,” she mouthed, and then followed Draco into the other room.

“If Master Harry Potter is the father, he won’t be losing his magic, will he?” Kreacher asked as he began scrubbing the dishes.

Harry jumped back, startled. He hadn’t expected the grumpy old elf to be right behind him.

“No, I won’t. It’s...” Harry trailed off, thinking about what he’d said.

“Master Harry Potter is sure of that? Master Harry Potter who once lived as a Muggle will not be giving up his magic so that Mister Draco from the pureblood family who has always had magic will keep his?” Kreacher turned his head slowly so that he could have one eye on his master.

“Kreacher, are you trying to help me? Because if you are and what you’re suggesting does work I might just give you that new larder you’ve been grumbling about.”

Kreacher grumbled, “Kreacher does what Kreacher does. Everything is to help Master Harry Potter.”

Even though the way he spoke made him sound like he was spitting the words out like a bad piece of beef, Harry could hear a little bit of pride in what he said.

“Of course. And the new larder would simply be a logical addition to this kitchen, wouldn’t it?” Harry smiled and headed out the door. Before he left the kitchen, he paused for a moment. “Thank you, Kreacher.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was nearly midnight when Draco heard a faint knock on his door. He hadn’t been sleeping well at night. The weather was colder and since he couldn’t cast warming charms he had to rely on the small fireplace on the opposite side of the room and the two quilts that were on his bed. All of the baby’s things - the small nursery - were on the warmer side of the room, and his bed was near the drafty window.

So, when the door creaked open, he wasn’t in much of a mood for visitors. “What is it?” he grumbled, pulling the quilts tighter over his shoulder.

“May I come in?” Harry asked quietly. He didn’t wait for an answer, and as soon as he was inside the room, he cast a warming charm on the whole area. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you decided to wake me up?” Draco stretched one arm up and fluffed up his pillow, then lay down again. “Thanks for the warmth.”

Harry went over to the bed and sat on the end. “It was cold in here.”

“Yes, I had noticed.”

“You still haven’t used you wand.”

Draco pushed himself up and smoothed his hair back. “No, I haven’t. I told you before, I don’t want to use magic for just a few weeks and then lose it forever. This is me practicing being a squib. I’m getting pretty good at it, aren’t I?”

Harry sighed. “I like you, Draco.”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“I... needed to tell you that. Also, I really do like the name Martin and I’d like to sleep with you tonight.” Harry blew out the rest of the air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and smiled. “Can I?”

Draco looked confused, amused and completely flabbergasted. “Okay, first, it’s great that you like me, since we’re going to both be fathers of this child. Second, I’ve already decided on the name Martin, so you’d better like it. And third, I’m not having sex with you because, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m incredibly, incredibly pregnant and I can hardly even piss on my own, let alone--”

“No, not that. I just want to sleep with you. Can’t sleep in my room on my own.”

Draco shook his head and smiled. “Come here, then. You’ll have to sleep on that side, though, because I need to sleep on my left side and there won’t be any room for you in front of me.”

Harry slipped in behind Draco and pulled the quilts over the both of them. At first, he just lay there on his back, staring up at the canopy of the bed. After so many years, he was sharing a bed with Draco Malfoy. A pregnant Draco Malfoy who was carrying Harry’s first child. It was all he could do to contain his joy and not turn over and...

“You can get closer to me, you know. It’s still cold in here and if you’re going to be taking up half the bed, you might as well make yourself useful. Draco reached back with his right arm, grabbed Harry’s right wrist and pulled his arm around so that Harry’s hand was on his stomach. The baby - Martin - moved inside of him at the feel of Harry’s magic. “He really likes the feel of you, Harry.”

Harry curled up next to Draco and slid his other arm under Draco’s neck. “I like the feel of him, too,” he whispered.

“Mmmm.” Draco murmured as he drifted off to sleep again. “I like the feel of you, too.”

Harry’s heart jumped in his chest. He snuggled in closer and pressed a kiss to the back of Draco’s neck. “Me too.” 

 

The next morning was very cold for late September. It was raining heavily enough to wake Draco from his much-needed slumber. Something about his chill wasn’t normal, however. He could feel the sweat pooling on his back and his face felt clammy. Although he had the quilts over him and Harry pulled in close to his back, he couldn’t stop shivering.

He carefully rolled over onto his other side so he was facing Harry. It was such a gorgeous sight. Everything he’d ever dreamed of was right there, sleeping with him. Harry’s face was so peaceful and angelic, even with a day’s whiskers on his chin and lip. His hair was wild and sprawled out all over the pillow. His lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth. Draco remembered how soft and full they felt when Harry kissed him that one time in the kitchen. It was a kiss of comfort to Harry, he was sure of that, but to him it meant so much more.

It was a pity he would have to disrupt him. “Harry,” Draco moaned. His hands were shaking so badly, Draco felt a cold fear come across him. “Harry, please wake up. Something’s wrong.”

Harry sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “Mmmm?” He hummed blearily, “what’s matter?”

“So-something’s wron-n-n-g.” Draco’s teeth were chattering and his eyes were losing focus.

Harry pushed himself up and summoned his glasses. “Alright, just lay down again.” Frantically, he summoned his wand and cast his patronus, sending it out to Ginny. 

When he was finished, he felt Draco’s forehead, cast a stronger-than-usual warming charm and settled in next to him again, wrapping as much of his own body around Draco’s as he could. “It’s okay,” he said softly, “It’s going to be okay. She’ll be here soon.”

“This... d-doesn’t feel right. I’m t-too cold.” Draco took Harry’s hand in his own and brought it down to his stomach. As soon as Harry’s hand was there, they could feel Martin move again. “Good, he’s fine.”

“He doesn’t react to your hand anymore?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think so.” Draco pressed his cheek against Harry’s. Just then, he felt nausea take over him. “Bathroom... going... to be sick...”

Harry helped Draco to the bathroom just as Ginny came running up the stairs. They made it to the sink, and held Draco’s hair and stomach as he vomited. The bile was clear this time - almost a pearly white, and it gave off a sweet scent.

Ginny was taken aback. “It’s okay, Draco. You’re doing just fine. This is... this is good.”

“It’s good that he’s sick, cold, and sweating at half past four in the morning?” Harry smoothed back Draco’s hair, and then got a glass of water for him after he was finished.

“It is, actually. This... oh, you two have got a lot to talk about.” Ginny helped Draco stand as he drank the water.

“It was... clear - white?” Draco asked.

“Yes. It was,” Ginny told him. “You are a very, very lucky man.” She looked over at Harry and smiled. “Both of you are.”

 

Harry combed his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I know that I am quite dense when it comes to some things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know. For example, just what in Merlin’s name is going on here? All this time you two are so interested in the color of Draco’s vomit! That’s... I don’t even know what to think of that.”

“Let’s get him back into bed, then I’ll try to explain a few things, if we have time.” Ginny wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and helped him out of the bathroom.

“What do you mean, ‘if we have time,’ is there something else?” Harry followed them down the hall and into the bedroom again.

“She means that it’s time to remove the baby.” Draco sat down on the bed and tried to relax. It was warmer under the charm, and he felt a little more comfortable, but his whole body was still trembling. “It’s preparing to lose its magic,” he said softly.

“Possibly,” Ginny confirmed. She brought out one of her medi-wands and cast a quick diagnostic spell on him.

“Well, it can stop preparing.” Harry went up to Draco and knelt down by the bed. He put his face against Draco’s stomach and smiled at the sound of the heartbeat inside. “Martin doesn’t really want to do that to his daddy, does he?” The baby squirmed and moved over to Harry’s face, pushing tight up against him. “That’s right. We’re going to do things differently this time.”

Ginny bit her lip. “We’d better get started,” she said softly. “This isn’t like normal childbirth, Draco. You don’t need to get undressed, and it probably won’t hurt you much until your internal organs start slipping back into place. I’ll also be able to cast a spell to bring your skin and muscles back to the way they were before.”

"Alright. Um, Harry, you’ll have to move.” He put his hand on Harry’s head and softly ran his fingers through his hair. 

Harry whispered something to Martin, then kissed Draco’s stomach and looked up. “Of course” he said.

Something in the look Ginny gave him made Harry suspect she knew what he was doing. And when she smiled and nodded, he knew. “It will work,” Harry insisted. “I know because... because a little elf told me.”

“If that bile was anything but white, I wouldn’t let you,” Ginny told him sternly. She turned to Draco. “Alright, this will be most comfortable if you’re sitting up. If you’re on your back, it’ll be too much pressure on you.”

Harry moved around so that he was on Ginny’s left and they were both in front of Draco.

“Right, so, first we need to bring the temperature down again. The heat will only speed things up, and Harry, you’re going to need all the time you can have if this is going to work.”

Draco leaned back on his elbows as Ginny placed a pillow behind him. “What is he going to do? It’d better not be anything stupid and Gryffindor-ish. Right now I don’t have patience for his kind of antics.”

“Don’t worry, Draco, it is. But it won’t harm you or Martin. And in the end, I’m sure you’ll understand.” Harry smiled, then turned to Ginny. “So, where do you want me?”

“Just where you are is fine. Remember, you need to be the one to hold the bubble and pull the baby out of it.”

From that point, everything happened very quickly. Draco didn’t have a chance to ask what they were doing, or to protest because a moment later, Healer Weasley was disapparating the baby in its bubble out of him and then after it had re-formed, levitated it over to Harry’s waiting hands. As soon as Harry had a good hold on it, she began working on Draco’s abdomen, weaving the muscles back into place, relaxing his diaphragm and shrinking his skin. 

Harry reached inside the bubble and pulled out little Martin, still covered in the clear pearly liquid. The bubble turned itself inside-out and was sucked into the baby. 

Martin was still moving as if he was inside his father, just slowly adjusting and feeling his way around. He pressed his face against Harry’s hand and Harry could feel the pull on his magic. But this time, he just let it go. 

The glow of Harry’s magic covered the two of them, creating an aura that Draco and Ginny could both feel and see. Ginny helped Draco lay down again, and put the quilt over him. As the aura lifted and seemed to flow into Martin, Harry looked up. He smiled at Draco with watery eyes and placed the baby next to him in the bed, tucking him under the quilts, as well.

“Perfect,” Harry said softly. “He’s just perfect.”

As Harry took a step back, he stumbled. His eyes couldn’t focus and the room started swaying as if he was on a ship. He grabbed for the post on the bed, but missed and stumbled over to the night stand, instead, knocking over the glass of water and candlestick.

“Harry, let’s get you into bed, too. In the other room. You should probably--”

“What’s happening?” Draco asked frantically. “What’s wrong with him? Don’t take him away.” Martin began fussing and then crying.

“Take care of Martin,” Harry said as Ginny helped him out of the room. “I’ll be back soon.”

When they got out into the hallway, Harry coasted along the wall until he arrived at Sirius’s room, then crumpled to the floor. 

“If it hadn’t run white, I wouldn’t have let you do it, Harry.” She shook her head, then levitated him to the bed and tucked him in, as well. After setting a warming charm and a diagnostic alarm to let her know if his condition changed, she took a deep breath and turned to the door. “Now, for the other two.”

By the time she got back into the other room, Draco was sitting up in the bed with Martin in his lap. The baby was sleeping soundly, snuggling against Draco’s hand. He had pale blond hair, but his face was round like Harry’s. “He’s a beautiful baby.” Ginny went back to her bag and tucked her medi-wand in one of the inside pockets.

“His magic feels like Harry’s.” Draco was obviously upset. He reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer. He pulled the lid off of the wand box and took the wand in his hand, then cast Lumos. The room lit up with a bright ball of light. His steel gray eyes darted over to her, accusingly. “Why?”

She brought up the chair and sighed as she sat in it. “You know why.” Ginny reached over and put her hand on Martin’s head. He fussed for a moment, then settled down again. “I’ve worked in the maternity ward at St. Mungo’s for two years now, and I have never, in all that time, or in the time I was studying, heard of any human having white gestational magic. Never. It’s commonly known that it is reserved for unicorns, phoenix, and some other magical creatures.”

“So, he and I--”

“Are the same, yes. He doesn’t know it. Doesn’t know anything about it, actually. He’s just very excited about having a family with you.”

Draco lifted Martin to his chest and closed his eyes. He’d hoped that Harry would be happy with them. He’d dreamed about some kind of working family, but the idea that Harry had shared his soul with Draco in the same way that Draco had shared his with Harry was more than he could have imagined possible. 

They were life-mates. Both of them. Just like the purest of magical creatures, they had exchanged souls and hadn’t even realized it. Harry would never be satisfied with any other man or woman as his mate, and Draco had decided long ago that he would never have anyone else.

“Now, Draco, I took Harry into the other room so I could ask you something. I know it might seem a little foolish, but I just need to know. I understand that you love him, but are you willing to stay with Harry now that you know he’s a squib?” She folded her hands in her lap and tried to relax.

“Miss Weasley, I don’t care if he’s a squib, a muggle, or a flobberworm. He’s Harry, and he’s mine.” Draco’s tone may have been defensive, but the point was well-made. 

Ginny smiled and nodded. “Perfect. Then let’s get some clothes on little Martin here, get him a bottle, and you two should go into the other room and wait for daddy to wake up.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry woke to the sound of someone pacing in his room, humming a light tune, and a baby making little cooing noises. He reached out to summon his glasses, but nothing came to him. Instead, someone placed the glasses in his hand and he felt the weight of that person sitting on the bed.

“Time to stop being lazy, Harry Potter and do your share of the work,” Draco said softly. After Harry put on his glasses, Draco set Martin down to sleep right next to Harry. “I’ve had him for two hours, and now it’s your turn.”

“You’re still here.” Harry’s mind was foggy and he wasn’t quite sure why Draco would stay with him if he knew that he had no magic. Perhaps he didn’t know yet.

“And you’re still stating the obvious. Your point?”

“Draco, I need to tell you something.” He put one hand on Martin’s stomach. The baby squirmed for a moment and then went back to sleep. “I don’t have magic anymore. It’s all--”

“Oh, don’t go on about that now. I don’t want to hear about your selfless sacrifice for a worthless sod like me.” Draco smiled. He went over to the other side of the bed and slid in beside Harry, wrapping an arm around his waist. “It was a very Gryffindor-ish thing to do, indeed, Mr. Potter. Ten points for being reckless and stu-- okay, so not stupid. It was wonderful and selfless.”

“I can live without magic. I did my whole time growing up and I can--”

Draco leaned over and kissed Harry, effectively shutting him up. In some respects, this was their first real kiss. One where he could actually pour all of his emotion into Harry and really let the man know how he felt. It was tender and deep and Harry’s mouth was so sweet, even after sleeping, that Draco wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to end it.

When he finally did pull back, he kissed Harry’s forehead and got a bit of an electric shock from the scar. “What was that?” He asked.

Harry rubbed his forehead. “It happens sometimes.”

“Hmmm. I’ll have to remember not to kiss you there in the future.”

“Draco, I--”

“I love you, Harry.” Draco smiled. “Sorry, but I wanted to say it first.” 

“Competitive much?” Harry chuckled.

“Otherwise, I don’t know if you’d really believe me.”

Harry smiled. “Oh, I believe you. You’ve just put yourself in bed with a squib and voluntarily kissed him giddy. I believe you.”

“Good, then can you believe that there are other things I’d like to--”

Harry covered Martin’s ears. “Really! Our baby’s right here. Bit of modesty, please.”

Draco chuckled and then started laughing.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“No, I won’t let you go out without your jacket, Martin. No matter how sunny it is, we’ll be walking and I don’t want you to catch a chill.” Harry held the jacket out to his son and shook it once.

“But father said it’s warm in the zoo.” Martin had grown to be tall for a four-year-old. He had a messy mop of blond hair like his father and brilliant green eyes like his other father. His face was round like Harry’s, but he had Draco’s pointed nose and pouty mouth.

And he easily won the hearts of everyone who met him. His charm and elegance was all Draco, and his innocence and kind heart he inherited from Harry.

“Listen to your Daddy, Martin.” Draco gently tapped Martin’s behind on his way down the hallway. He shrugged into his own jacket, went right up to Harry and gave him a kiss. “I’ll wait outside while you two finish up here.” He threw a glance back at Martin. “Can’t promise I won’t start eating the ice cream without you.”

At the mention of ice cream, Martin perked up, raced to his daddy and put on his jacket. He was zipping it up on the way out the door. “Wait, father! Wait for me! I want ice cream, too!”

Harry rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.

Draco and Martin stood at bottom of the steps, waiting for him. After Martin was born, Draco had cut his hair short, and started wearing Muggle clothes. He’d decided that if Harry would have to live like a squib, he would, too. He used magic around the house sometimes, but anytime they went out, they walked or took the bus.

They also just thought it would be safer if they stayed away from the Wizarding world. Even though the two of them were soul-bound to each other and any court case would likely be ruled in their favor if they’d ever been called out on the male pregnancy, neither of them really wanted to live in a world that frowned upon the existence of their child. They might get funny looks from some of the more conservative Muggles, but at least it was understood that a family with two fathers and one son was a viable one.

Draco was walking with his hands stuffed in his pockets and Martin was mimicking him, walking next to his father. It was quite a funny sight and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. Harry felt he couldn’t have been more in love if he’d tried.

Harry walked along to catch up with his family and then stopped. Something didn’t feel right. He clenched his stomach, and rubbed his scar.

“Are you alright, luv?” Draco asked, looking back.

Something was oozing out of Harry’s scar and left a gooey pearly liquid on his hand. “I think I should go back.”

“What about the zoo?” Martin asked Draco.

“Well, let’s go make sure daddy isn’t sick first. We’ll go if he’s feeling better.” They went back to Harry and walked him back to the house.

“Maybe he’s not really sick. Maybe he’s just pretending.” Martin suggested hopefully.

Harry dashed inside and ran down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Maybe he was hungry?” Martin thought for a moment while Harry stood near the sink, looking a little green. “Maybe he’s going to have a baby!”

Draco looked down at his son. “What do you think you know about that?”

“Well, Auntie Hermione said she sicked up every day and she’s going to have a baby.”

“That’s not possible, sweetie,” Harry said, forcing a smile. “I’d need to have magic to--” Harry turned to the sink and just let go.

“Why doesn’t daddy have magic?”

“Because he gave all of his to someone else who really needed it.” Draco told Martin. “Now why don’t you go into the living room and floo Uncle Charlie and tell him we’ll be late.”

“Can I tell him daddy’s sicking up in the kitchen?”

“Yes, you tell him just that. Now go.” Draco patted his son’s behind and sent him off down the hall. He turned to Harry and put his hand on his back. “Was it something you ate?”  
Harry was completely still, just staring down into the sink.

“Harry? Are you alright?”

“I think... I think I’m quite alright.” He held out his hand and summoned his wand. It took a few moments, but then it slowly floated back to him. The magic was weak, but it was there.

“Harry? What’s...” Draco looked down into the sink.

There, in the bottom of the basin, was a thick, gooey bile that twinkled a pearly white with definite traces of both Harry’s and Draco’s magic.


End file.
